Page 26 of The Fiancé (Close Quarters 4)

There’s a hum of satisfaction behind me. “If I send you back downstairs now you’re not going to be able to sleep, are you?”

“No,” I whimper. I’m so aroused I can feel my clit pulsing, desperate to be touched. The need to come is like a snake lashing out inside me, snapping and writhing and slithering.

“You need to get some release.” His voice is smoother now, almost hypnotic. He’s back in control and he likes it. “You need to relieve some of that tension or else you’re going to ruin those expensive sheets I put on your bed.”

“Yes.” The word is like a hiss of steam releasing from a pressure cooker.

“Go on, then.”

What? He wants me to do it...now? Here?

Punishment, remember? You watched him so he gets to watch you.

“But...”

“Take your fingers and touch yourself until you come.”

Fuck. I’m almost panting with need now—it won’t take long to get me over the edge. But I can’t do this, can I? I can’t get myself off in front of him. For some reason this feels more intimate than sex. More vulnerable.

“Ava.” He stretches my name out. “If you want to play this game, you have to be willing to take your turn.”

I nod. Idowant to play. Because I know even if I don’t, the pressure from this will make me explode at some point. I want to see what effect I have on him.

Swallowing my nerves and excitement, I widen my stance and tease the tip of my forefinger through my sex. I’m so wet. So slick with need. I drag the moisture up to my clit, swirling it around the swollen bud in a way that makes me gasp. This won’t take long at all. I’m almost there already, just from watching him. From his words.

“Oh my god...” I pant. I move my hand, flicking the spot that makes everything tighten inside me. My sex clenches, unfulfilled. Wanting to be full with him. I imagine the thick length of him sliding into me.

“Yes, that’s it.” His voice is a little choked up now. There’s movement behind me, but I can’t focus on the reflections. My eyes flutter shut as I pleasure myself for him. For me.

The squeak of bedsprings makes me think he’s sitting or lying down. I hear that slick sound again and I know he’s touching himself. I let that image—coloured by my memory from moments ago—flare to life in my head. His big hand, stroking up and down. I take it further, allowing myself to imagine him finishing. His muscles would bunch up, his biceps bulging as he squeezes himself tight, hips jerking up into his grip one last time.

The head of his cock would be rich with colour, all the blood pulsing underneath his skin. With a shuddering gasp he would let go, emptying himself in long, jetting streams across his stomach.

“Oh my god,” I gasp as the image flickers and fades, my release blanking everything in my brain so that I can focus only on the orgasm rippling through me. My thighs clench around my hand. “I’m coming. Daniel, I’m coming.”

There’s a grunt behind me, crude words and pleasure sounds mixing into a guttural mélange. And I hear my name.Ava, Ava, Ava.

My orgasm is strong and I press one hand against the window to brace myself. My sex is so wet, dampness clings to my inner thighs, coating my fingers, as well. As my breath finally starts to slow, I come back down to earth.

“Go to bed,” he commands. “We’ll deal with this in the morning.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Daniel

ISPENTTHEnight dreaming about her, about what might have come next if I hadn’t managed to hang on to one shred of control. Never mind the fact that I tugged on my cock while watching her put her hand between those sweet, trembling thighs. Never mind the fact that I came so hard I almost saw stars. Never mind the fact that the one glance she gave me over her shoulder as she left was enough to have me haunted for life.

I’d been cavalier that first night—thinking that if she offered her body to me, I’d enjoy it. Thinking that if sex was on the table, then I’d take it without a second thought. Without worrying that it would affect me.

But I’ve been ambushed.

Because Ava has surprised me. I was unprepared last night, caught in the headlights. And instead of simply doing what any guy would if he was hot for someone—give in to the feelings and have some dirty, impulsive sex—I got all Sergeant Commander on her.

Christ.

That is not good news. One look at Ava will tell you she’s a forever gal. A wants-a-real-ring-on-her-finger, walk-down-the-aisle kinda gal. And yeah, while she’s obviously attracted to me, I’ve probably ruined this whole thing by letting my true self out on night one. If I find her room cleaned out and the apartment empty this morning, I won’t be surprised.

I shower quickly, then pull on a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt. Staring at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, I second-guess myself. Black might be too harsh, so I change into a white one instead. Pathetic, right? But I shove aside the self-deprecating thoughts. I’m better than that. Better than some animal who lets his base instincts control him.

---